#dpxkh

I’ve been thinking back on life lately. Like, was any of that a dream, or was it too real?

- - -

The lab in the basement was always a little unnerving to be in. Exposed wires on unfinished projects, cables running haphazardly across the ground, loose tools scattered everywhere, honestly it’s always been a mess at best. If this were a well known work place, our house would’ve definitely been condemned by now! Walking in now, I immediately regret my decisions up till now. Mom and dad’s latest project may be a bust, but they clearly haven’t cleaned up after they were done!

“Woah! Watch your step there!” Tucker jokes, but this isn’t the first time the floor has been covered in some mysterious substance, let alone a step on the stairs. At least Tucker and Sam seem to be enjoying themselves while I’m stuck with keeping them safe, but what are friends for? “Promise you won’t touch anything in here?” It may be obvious, but I have to ask!

Sam tisked at me sarcastically. “Psh, yeah, I was planning on drinking from mysterious flasks myself. Maybe chew on some cables or steal something radioactive.”

“Sam, I don’t think there would be anything radioactive in here! Danny lives just upstairs from here, wouldn’t he get poisoned if there was?”

“Cable,” I pointed out, just as Tucker was about to trip right over an extension cord, pulling him back for good measure. “Look, I know! Technology, cryptozoology, general weird cyber-goth stuff; I get it! But this stuff is dangerous! You’ve gotta trust me here!”

Sure, they understood of course, but it’s not like they were as serious about it. I’ve lived with this, I know how dangerous the equipment here can be, and I know you need to approach everything here with extreme caution. Maybe that’s why they figured they are safe here with me. Maybe they think I can protect them. I honestly have no idea where they got the idea I could protect anyone.

I could see Tucker shaking, trying so very hard not to pick up the gizmos and gadgets littering the lab to look at closer, but it’s for his safety he doesn’t touch them. I keep an eye on him the most, since Sam is only taking pictures with the camera she brought. I think she brought it so we could work on some project for school, but honestly making memories is more fun. Well, more fun when it’s not in your parents’ ghost hunting lab, anyway. I was watching Tucker lean to look at another side of some kind of circuit board when I heard from Sam again.

“Hey wait! Danny, you have a suit?”

“Ah- maybe? Huh?” Startled, I shot to attention to find Sam picking up a black and white jumpsuit. “Wh- hey!” 

I rush over to snatch it from her hand. It’s safe, clean in fact, and mostly unworn. The jumpsuit itself may not be dangerous, but it’s definitely a blow to an already fragile ego. I hold it out to try and fold it back up properly, but then I hear a click-snap. The camera shutter makes me flinch and I can’t help but glare at Sam.

“Oops?” Sam grins mischievously, brightly, and knowingly. “Hey! Maybe you can try it on!” I really didn’t want to, and she could see it. Sam followed up her request. “Please? I just wanna see it! I’m sure it looks good on you!”

I sigh, knowing defeat and knowing it’s a fairly innocent request. I can wear a jumpsuit fine, and I know it’s tailored to fit me. Heck, maybe it’ll be easier to prevent disasters if I’m protected too! So I step away to put it on over my clothes, listening in on their conversation about the portal itself. Ugh, the portal.

“So they really made a portal?”

“Supposedly, yeah! His parents really seem to believe it could work!”

“But why? We don’t even know if ghosts are real!”

I zip up the front and walk back over to rejoin the conversation, only to find Tucker leaning in closer. He seems to be listening to the hum of machinery. To be honest, it is a nice sound, pretty calming at times, but it can get annoying and usually indicates something live and active. I pull him away by the shoulder as I chime in.

“Well, I think they tried this in college too. Whatever results they found must’ve proven it in their heads that this could work.”

Sam starts snickering, but I can tell by the look she’s giving me that it’s not something I said. In fact, I know exactly what it is. Without saying anything, she walks over and rips off a huge decal of dad’s face from my chest. Honestly, good riddance. I’m sure dad wouldn’t mind a little defacing, as a treat.

“Oh! Idea!” Tucker snaps and points to me as he continues. “We should get a picture of you in the portal like that!”

“Oh yeah!” Sam chimes in. “Yeah in the hollow space there! With you in the suit, standing in front of all of this machinery here, it would look so cool and, maybe even professional!”

Well, it is an interesting idea, and it would look pretty cool. I agree! The jumpsuit has a hood and goggles to protect your scalp and eyes respectively, but we’re not doing anything except posing for a picture. It would look better without the hood anyway, so I leave it down. With that, Sam and Tucker get in position further away while I step inside.

I’ve never been so close, let alone inside of one of my parents’ inventions. Walking in feels surreal. The lights, dots, and lines running across the walls and ceiling are vast and interwoven, and yet so organized and strategically oriented. It’s like one massive circuit board with so many mechanical bits exposed. Clearly this part of the portal wasn’t meant to be seen. As I’m looking around, I feel something hit my foot as I try to take another step, sending a jolt up my spine in a panic. I feel myself lose balance and instinctively I stumble to catch myself. My hand lands on something, usually it would be fine to hold the wall, but in this case I feel something give under my palm. The hum of the portal grows louder, something whirs to life around me, and taking my hand off the wall reveals a button that reads “on” just below it. Realization hits, and I look to Sam and Tucker, but it’s too late. The last thing I see is their panic reflecting mine, before a sharp pain in the back of my neck introduces itself.

- - -

I woke up on the floor. Reality spun for a bit, and I wasn’t sure where I was. I could feel I was laying on some kind of concrete, and I almost thought I was in the lab again. It would’ve been an easy mistake, but I remember now.

I’m in a warehouse, in some city I’ve never known, and I am alone. Sitting up, I rub my hand through my hair, taking a moment to remember where I am and why. I am here because I, Daniel Fenton, am running for my life. Some strange ghosts have been popping up more and more frequently lately, and they’ve been chasing me far more aggressively than any ghost I’ve ever met. Not even Skulker is as bad as these guys! 

In the beginning, there weren’t that many, so they were easy to handle. It was always so strange that they made sounds but never spoke, and they seem to follow pure instinct and emotions. These ghosts don’t banter, have no obvious obsessions, and sometimes I see weird tattoos on them. In fact, there seems to be multiples of them, like blob ghosts. I could fight them off for a while, and I could stop them from attacking random people. A lot of ghost hunters got their infamy and fame for getting rid of these guys too, so it wasn’t that big of a deal. Now, however, it feels like swarms of them are tracking me down at all times. 

Just as I was thinking I could never get a rest from them, I feel a chill and see an icy trail of smoke leave my mouth. It seems it’s time to get moving again. I stand and slap myself in the face for a quick burst of energy before transforming. Almost as if on queue, the shadows cast on the ground rise into solid shapes, puffs of black smoke appear and strange knight looking guys drop in the smoke’s place, and all of their beady yellow eyes stare back at me with what I’ve come to understand is killing intent.

Knowing where they are now, I bolt in the opposite direction, flying straight through walls and ceilings, getting as far from my assailants as possible. These guys are persistent, but it seems most of them don’t know how to fly. Problem is, some do. Once I’m outside, I catch sight of some more of the strange ghosts, these ones winged and colorful. “Are the wings really necessary?” No response, as always. It seems there’s only about, say, 7 total? At least 3 different shapes at a glance. Since they’re in the air, it’s probably safe to say a few ecto-blasts should take care of them no harm done!

A bit of blasting, a bit of punching, a few scratches here and there, and the numbers start dwindling! Sometimes after hitting them enough, they’ll poof and turn into weird heart shaped cores, so I stuff them in the thermos! I can’t exactly dispose of them anywhere, not anymore especially, so this thing is getting a bit crowded. The good news is I don’t try to stuff every ghost I see in there. In fact, the number of flying guys has increased dramatically over time already, so I figured I gotta leave again. 

Of course they followed me. I tried to stop somewhere for a moment when I thought I got enough distance, but there they are! In the distance! Flying towards me! From this vantage point, it’s easy to see just how many of them there are total. I see the ones from inside the building scrambling out, and I can see many more from the shadows and side streets all skittering out as a crowd. “Oh boy,” here we go again.

- - -

Back then, I woke up to a weird feeling that has since become normal. Everything was light and tingly, and yet so, so weak. I could hear shouting, though too muffled to understand right away. When I finally tried to open my eyes, there was a red flashing, giving way to a green glowing light occasionally. When I came to, I saw Tucker and Sam’s faces, panicked and every crying, yelling and begging for me to say something or give a sign that I was ok. I didn’t feel ok, but I tried at least sitting up at the time.

White hair, white gloves, black suit. There might have been a decal, something tells me there wasn’t, but the decal looks cool enough it might as well have always been there. With help I stood up, and we found our way to a mirror so I could see the damage for myself. I was glowing, but not in a figurative way, but more in the way a hot iron will glow white with heat, or maybe how some toxic goo would glow like a vat of glow-sticks. There were my eyes, staring back like green neon signs on a horribly scratched up sign. As I began to panic, I watched my face twist in the mirror into something else, which only made me panic more. The more I panicked the less human I looked, and the less human I looked the more I panicked, but Tucker helped ground me again. Sam comforted me and had me take deep breaths. Before I knew it, I was myself again, black hair and all. Life had never been the same since that day. The way everyone else in Amity Park know it, that was the night of the meteor shower.

- - -

I finally found another moment’s rest. Ironically, it was the presence of another ghost that calmed my nerves. Unfortunately it was Skulker that decided to stop by.

“Well, you sure are far from home, aren’t you?”

“Can you really say I have a home anymore? You know what happened.”

Of course Skulker knew. He smiled knowingly before thankfully changing the subject. “Those shadow ghosts really have it out for you huh? They should really know their place!”

“Heh, yeah, I wonder what I did to piss so many off them off like this!”

“Oh, what didn’t you do!”

Admittedly, he got a laugh out of me. Feeling a bit more at ease, I sit down on a dumpster nearby. Skulker can make himself comfy on his own. I can’t help finding it strange that Skulker is the only other ghost I know that’s approached me so far. I have been running for a few weeks now, so I have gotten pretty far from the ghost portal, but even then there are other ghosts out there! And yet, it almost feels like everyone’s avoiding me. Skulker is the only one that I’ve been able to confide in lately.

“So what do you think their deal is?” I don’t wanna change the subject yet. I have had plenty of time with these guys and I wish I knew what they’re doing.

“You think I would know? You think I would send them after you like that?”

“What? Nah! You hunt alone don’t you?”

“Exactly that, welp! I don’t need any hounds chasing you and herding you to me! I can and will catch you on my own terms!”

“Oh goodie. Always wanted to be mounted on a wall.” The sarcasm might’ve been lost on Skulker, but it helps me stay calm.

“Maybe some day, but today is not that day! I need you in top performance before I can hunt you down proper! For now, I will help you in your time of need. Hunter’s honor.”

“Hunter’s honor…” I respond a little quieter, honestly not sure if that’s a thing. Something about it feels less like a promise, and more like camaraderie. I suppose I could have been considered a hunter, but, “I can’t be a hunter. I’m not hunting anything.”

“Oh, aren’t you? I believe I remember you were hunting for a solution to your uh… situation…”

My situation is not the same! I can’t say that, I couldn’t even bring myself to answer. My situation… it’s hard to explain, it was a stupid spur of the moment decision. Meeting clockwork, seeing Amity Park’s future, knowing what I could become, it’s all a mess I wish I could forget. I stare at a nearby wall, holding my chest, and feeling not only my pulse but a soft drumming of something foreign and new.

I failed to save them. I failed to save my friends from disaster. I don’t know what gave them the impression I could save them, especially if I was the one that put them in danger. After that explosion, there were no survivors of that accident. I saw some kind of light leaving their bodies, I could hear a soft hum from each of the lights. The hum was familiar, but much quieter than the one I’m familiar with. I was scared, and I didn’t want to lose what little what left of my friends and family. So I grabbed on. I rushed to scoop up those little lights before they flew away or shattered with how young and fragile they were. I held them close in grief, and then, they were gone. I could still feel them now, but they weren’t in my arms anymore. What’s left of everyone is right here, with what’s left of me.

“I can’t find a solution if I’m dead.” I realize my poor choice in wording immediately. “Gone. Turned to dust. Reduced to atoms. Nothing could save them then.”

“Well, you wouldn’t have to worry about your grief anymore if, you know, you weren’t conscious anymore? I could put your cores in a jar and put it up on my mantle!”

“Oh what are you, a heartless?”

A beat. A… Heartless?

“Oh, so the welp doesn’t know grammar either, it seems!”